[You] by Emily Willis

[You] are visiting sitting on the bed I’ve rented forecast is for hail and possible bombing it hits me tidal how on the walk today the sea was too obviously brutal how it makes a different sound from that other one I remember how I pulled your face out of the water and later we lined up the bottles of wine and broke them with laughter how you sat with me the day he put his foot in the door I was by the radiator to mark it for later—I have been piss happy with you talking about the darkest things gave them body to seem less real it feels wrong and wonderful for you to be in this space and all of the other beds we sat on at 11 or 12 or 1 am frothing up in the gin animating the gaps belong to then belong to this